“Sir, please come down the ramp,” the lady officer says, clearly taking control of the situation from the male officer.
I turn around and look at my woman behind me. “You okay? You decent?”
“Yes. Everything’s okay.”
I take her hand and slowly help her down the ramp.
“One at a time, sir! We need separate statements,” the woman says.
“I don’t know how you do things here, but I don’t let my woman walk down a steep ramp at night, in the dark, without making sure she’s okay.” I continue forward and the officers don’t put up any more of a fuss. It hits me that when I said, “how you do things here,” it almost refers to the fact that I’m not from here, but maybe not. Maybe I’m being paranoid.
We reach the sand and the male officer’s face suddenly comes to life. “Wait, aren’t you Am-“
“Amazed that nothing happened? Yes, I am Officer Hernandez. You could have killed him!”
My eyes narrow as I look over at my woman. Do these two know each other?
I step in-between this dick, not wanting him to think this is something my woman does with anyone but me.
“I think it’s best if you forgot you ever saw her here, officer. But don’t forget about me and that I protect what’s mine.”
“Are you threatening me, sir?”
“We're just going now, officer. We’ve had too much to drink and we apologize. We’re leaving now.”
It’s not true and I’m pissed for a number of reasons, most importantly that I was so damn close to making her mine. But my woman is right…it is for the best if we just leave now without having to make statements or anything like that. The last thing I need is this getting back to the Kremlin or me having to flash my ID. Sure, it worked at the airport when I entered, but that’s different. We’d hacked their system.
I feel the tug of Amanda’s hand on mine and decide to do what’s best.
I turn and walk away with her without adding to the incident.
But there’s another kind of incident that we need to make happen soon, just not tonight. The mood has been ruined, but thinking back the idea of taking her in a lifeguard tower for the first time did sound hot and memorable, but not right.
She’s a princess and she’s going to be my queen. She deserves much, much better. As much as I hate to admit it, maybe there was a silver lining to those cops finding us and stopping us.
Yeah, I don’t want to admit it. All I’ll remember about this night is another kind of admission…the one from her body that told me how much she enjoyed what I did to her, what I made her feel.
Good. Because she can expect that, and a whole lot more, for the rest of her life.
Our life. Together.
It’s only a matter of time now until I make her mine…officially.
Because she’s already mine and there’s no going back…ever.
CHAPTER 11
Amanda
The next morning
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Special Agent in Charge Piro yells at me in our Miramar F.B.I. Office.
“I’m sorry, sir. My judgment was impaired.” I stand at attention knowing this reaming has just begun, but there’s nothing I can do now but take it.
“Impaired? Impaired? That’s what you call a make out session, or likely a whole lot more, in a South Beach lifeguard tower? Do you know how many infractions that is?”
“A lot, sir.”
“A lot? Breaking and entering. Destruction of property. Very possibly indecent exposure. Trespassing. Need I continue?”
“No, sir. Lesson learned.” Although I want another lesson in understanding myself from Vasily’s magical tongue. That’s for sure.
Special Agent Piro gets out of his seat and moves closer towards me. I listen to the sound of the heels of his dress shoes grind into the tile beneath our feet as he circles around me, stopping with each step and making it sound like he’s squashing a bug.
“Do you understand how dangerous this man is?”
“Somewhat, sir. I haven’t been privy to much of the information.”
“And that’s for a reason, Agent Andrews. There are reasons way above your pay grade and some above mine. Listen, don’t go fucking around and get yourself pulled off this case, or yet worse…hurt.”
“No, sir.”
“If this blows up in your face and you have a failed case while you’re not even actually an agent…how do you think that’s going to look when it comes time to make the decision to graduate you to the role of agent when you’ve already failed at it?” His voice rises as he finishes his question that has the most obvious answer in the world. I’ll take another route, thank you.
“That’s not going to happen, sir.”
“It better not.” He walks around and pulls up close to my ear. I keep my eyes trained forward wondering what the heck he’s going to do now. I’m not sure if a threat is coming, a moment where he switches from bad cop to good cop, or something sexual and completely out of line.
“Listen. That man has power and charm. I understand that. Don’t get pulled off the case, especially now that you’re in deeper than anyone we’ve ever had inside his operation.”
I’m in deep? I mean I’m definitely in deep personally, but I don’t feel like I’m in deep from a professional point of view…not at all.
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re doing a good job, especially the whole honeypot thing. Making him fall for you is genius and with the way things are in the workplace now and the rules and everything…I definitely can’t tell you to keep pursuing that angle, but I must say you’re dedicated, Recruit Andrews. You do whatever it takes and I commend you, you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I say at a level matching his reduced tone.
“Now this is what’s going to happen next. I’m going to yell in your ear so fucking loud that half the office will hear it. That’s the point. After that you get the fuck out of my office and keep doing the outstanding job you’ve been doing. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
I hear him suck in a deep breath and he turns his head slightly so the words won’t go in my ear, but it’s close enough. “Don’t you ever fucking embarrass The Bureau like that again or the only job you’ll ever get with us is cleaning the toilets at Quantico with a fucking toothbrush and I’ll make sure Mexican is on the menu every fucking day…extra spicy. You fucking got that, Andrews?”
“Yes, sir,” I yell at the top of my lungs like I’m a Marine Corps recruit putting my feet on the yellow footprints of Parris Island, South Carolina for the first time.
“Then get the fuck outta my face!”
I execute an about face and quickly leave his office, making my way through the hallway as heads turn and duck and people clear a way for me to pass…quickly.
No matter what someone yells at me it’s nothing compared to what I’ve already been through. That and I understand the political game that Special Agent Piro if forced to play in today’s environment.
The only question is what I’m going to go through in the future, or more importantly how this is going to all play out with Vasily.
I’ve completely lost my mind and am falling for him…if I haven’t entirely already, not to mention he’s definitely fallen for me. The man can’t stop claiming me, and that’s just the beginning.
He’s possessive and jealous to the point he’s almost reckless. The way he talked to Officer Hernandez last night, who also happens to be the idiot who ran his mouth about running into me in a compromising situation.
He may be police and me “only” an F.B.I. Recruit, but word between law enforcement spreads fast…so fast that I had a message before my head hit the pillow to be in Special Agent Piro’s office first thing this morning at seven o’clock sharp.
Hernandez threw me under the bus for a laugh. I liked the guy, or I did, but it’s something I have to deal with when it comes to guys my age.
Vasily? That’s a completely different
story. And speaking of moving fast, he was ready to move fast last night. Maybe what happened between us is just what we need…a second to slow down and evaluate what’s built to a head so rapidly.
Then again I don’t think Vasily’s going to like hearing that, nor will he acknowledge it.
Then again maybe I won’t either.
Now I’ve got another situation on my hands. I can tell Vasily we need to tone it back for a minute, but I don’t really want to. I’m not even sure I can.
That’s only part of it. Special Agent Piro mentioned something that I still don’t understand…at all. “Do you understand how dangerous this man is?” The top ranking man at the Miramar office’s words ring in my head as I push open the front door, ready to be out of here and back to my rented home for this assignment.
Yeah, he’s dangerous all right. Very dangerous, just like a hot stove.
And I can’t help but touch it to see just how hot we’re talking.
CHAPTER 12
Vasily
I close and lock the door to my office and fire up my virtual private network, or VPN, as it’s more commonly known.
I don’t call myself a hacker because I’ve seen the real ones back in Moscow. Even so, I’m head of IT and I definitely know enough about computers to do a private search…especially when I’m the one in control of the entire network.
It takes me less than ten minutes to find Officer Hernandez. Thank you to all the police stations out there who are trying to be warm and fuzzy with their neighborhoods, and in doing so are putting pictures of all their officers online. It just makes my job so much easier.
Two minutes later and I’ve found the match to Officer Gary Hernandez on Facebook. Looks like he went to high school right here in Miami Gardens.
I do the math on his time in service as a cop and figure he’s probably twenty-three. He’s young. No wonder he made all those mistakes last night. Then again how did he get a job as a cop at only twenty-three? That doesn’t matter right now, but I file it away in case.
A quick Google search later and I’ve found his high school yearbook online in PDF format.
I scroll through it quickly. It only seems to have the seniors and their information in it.
I move my cursor up to the browser and change the year, which is right there in the URL bar, to one year forward. I hit enter and a new PDF loads. As expected the high school is using the same naming convention for their yearbooks. Depending on how many they’ve uploaded I could theoretically get information on all of the graduates they’ve ever had. It blows my mind how much information Americans share online, whether they know it or not. No wonder I hate posing for pictures.
I hit Control F to search the entire page and type in Amanda. The page jumps down, but not far. Right there under the A’s she sits. Amanda Andrews. That doesn’t match the Zillow ownership record of the house, so the mystery continues, and I continue to unravel it quickly. I’ve found a loose string and I’m going to have to pull.
Do I trust her? Absolutely.
But I have to know what’s going on around me in order to make sure I pull off my mission while I’m here. I do have loyalties, and I know who I’m most loyal to no matter what.
I look at that picture of her when she was eighteen. Wow, she’s changed a lot but still you can see she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. I just stare at that picture of her, knowing she’s mine now.
My head shakes to the side as I come out of my trance. I’m not sure how much time has passed, but it doesn’t matter. I could just look at any picture of her all day long.
I jump when I hear a phone ringing, not even realizing I had a phone in this place.
I look at the caller ID and it shows nothing. An outside call? Probably, but definitely not one originating from inside the school or orphanage.
“IT,” I announce, as I pick up the receiver.
“You are talking with F.B.I. Why?”
I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Why he’s calling me on an unsecured line in the U.S. seems completely out of character for a top level Kremlin intelligence officer though.
“I have not. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Open your eyes, or has she pulled them shut? Don’t be blinded by Americans and their fake friendliness. She wants you…not to put ring on finger…to put your head on wall.”
The call drops.
My intelligence officer thinks Amanda is F.B.I.? Not only that but he called me to tell me.
I put the phone down and look back at the screen.
“Most likely to serve and protect in a big way.” It’s there, right underneath her picture.
I go back over to Officer Gary Hernandez’s Facebook and scroll through his photos. The fool doesn’t even has his account on private and he’s a police officer in a violent crime city. Unbelievable.
There are pictures of him doing all sorts of things. Community outreach. Running on the beach. Hanging with his friends. I scroll back looking at pictures he took at some bar on Halloween. He’s got his arms around a bunch of girls trying to act like he’s “the man.” If he was a real man he’d know a bunch of girls do nothing for you. You only need one. The right one. The only one.
I keep scrolling but nothing. At some point I come back to that stupid Halloween picture, but I can’t stand looking at it. The guy has a stupid look on his face that I want to punch off, especially after he interrupted Amanda and I the other night.
Where can I find more information about her?
I slap my forehead wondering why I didn’t just type her name into Facebook first. How did I miss that?
I got distracted by her beauty in that high school yearbook picture and the phone call from Moscow. Those two things together threw me off.
I grab the mouse and go to type in her name, but for some reason I look at the comments on this Halloween picture.
Love your cop outfit, OFFICER, but Amanda’s FBI will crush you next Halloween. Hahaha
What the…
I scroll down and keep reading. And there it is, right in front of my eyes.
Only three more months until she starts the academy, or farm, or whatever they secretly call it. Lol. You go girl! #GirlPower #AmandaAllIn #SpecialAgentAndrews
My entire body goes cold like the moment on a hot summer day when the clouds roll in and a cold breeze hits you out of nowhere as the temperature noticeably drops about twenty degrees instantly, ruining a day at the beach.
My life has afforded me very few days at the beach, but I was hoping for a lot in the future…with her.
This changes everything.
And now…time for a change of plans.
I spend the rest of my morning researching her like crazy, putting all the pieces of her life together.
Is this whole thing coincidence or is she hunting me? Is she really trying to put my head on the wall like the Kremlin thinks?
Damn, this is so confusing.
When people say relationships are hard they talk about compromises, finances, kids…stuff like that. They don’t talk about Mr. and Mrs. Smith Hollywood nonsense where Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are out to get each other.
Is that what this is about?
I lean back in my chair and try and run through all the possible scenarios.
Damn, I was the one who saw her first. She put herself out there on a silver platter, but I didn’t even realize it. It seemed so innocent…like I just stumbled upon her up in her bedroom…naked.
My dick hardens at the thought and I try not to let it. My fists clench instead. I shouldn’t be hard, I should be pissed to the point of revenge.
Wait. I was researching her on the school computer the other day and I got cut off with that stupid meeting thing I got pulled into.
My body comes forward quickly, the chair straining under my weight and size as I pull her file back up.
I read through it. There are tons of different kinds of praise in there of all sorts. Best this…awesome at that…fa
vorite kid. And then I see there’s actually a link attached for the police file of when her parents were killed…right in front of her.
Damn, why would they attach that to their records. It shows it’s been accessed by the school psychologist once, but apparently she didn’t have the right privileges at the time so she couldn’t open the file.
I click on it with my administrator privileges and it comes right up. It shows the view in the upper right hand corner. Zero. Once I click away it will show one. I’m the first, just as I should be when it comes to everything in her life. At least that’s what I thought last night.
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